What You Will
by KingdomKey1121
Summary: A Twelfth Night/She's the Man Elsanna AU - Anna crossdresses and enters a private school pretending to be her brother Hans. She must then endure 12 days of crazy while staving off her suspicious roommate, Kristoff, and fighting her growing feelings for the cold introvert, Elsa.
1. Prologue

_A/N: So this came about as I was watching _She's the Man_ (as I'm sure you guessed) which is seriously hysterical. My roommate mentioned something like, "what if Viola fell in love with Olivia instead?" AND BAM. Instant classic. __Okay, here we go..._

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><p>See, Anna? This is what happens when you rush into things without thinking.<p>

Everyone is staring. This isn't what I thought it would be like. No, I thought the big reveal would be... funny. Like… Ta-da! Here I am! This is me! But this is not funny. This is the opposite of funny. This… this is hostile. And it's not just the glare that Kristoff is giving me, although that's pretty scary too. What makes it worse is that fact that she's there, right behind Kristoff. I can see her blue eyes glinting at me from under her bangs. That glare, the Death Glare that she usually reserves for the stupid guys in chem who try to purposely set things on fire is now trained on me.

This is bad. This is really bad. How did it get this bad?

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><p>The day I decided to put myself through twelve days of chaos wasn't even in itself a very good one. Homeroom sucked, math sucked, history sucked, lunch sucked. The only thing that didn't suck was the fact that my English teacher ended up pushing back our literary criticism essay on Macbeth (which I hadn't even started) to next week. Score one for Anna!<p>

Even soccer practice was unusually sucky - Coach drilled me harder than anyone else and I could still hear the ringing of his whistle in my ear on my way out to the parking lot. To top it all off, I tripped on the tarmac before reaching my car and scraped up my knee pretty badly. So, bleeding and in an altogether dour mood, I drove home.

What was waiting for me at home was not much better. The minute I stepped in the front door, Mom began her usual assault on me, this time about my grades. It wasn't even that far into the semester but she had already climbed up on her high horse.

"Did you finish your Macbeth essay, honey?" She had been reading on the couch but immediately threw down her book when I entered. I always ended up regretting telling her about school.

I sighed in exasperation before answering. "No, Mom. It's not due for another week. And I have other things to do… like soccer… and hanging out with my friends..."

"You shouldn't procrastinate. Imagine all the free time you'd have if you got it done right now!"

"Or imagine all the skills I could acquire on the internet instead!" I said, matching her enthusiastic tone. I started to make a break for the safety of upstairs but she knew me well and stopped me on the first step.

"Your brother has never procrastinated."

For a moment I pondered continuing up the stairs and ignoring her but I couldn't ever let that stuff slide, especially when I know that she's trying to get on my nerves. I wheeled around and hung ostentatiously from the bottommost banister - I knew she hated that. She was convinced that I was a walking hurricane bent on destroying her perfect house.

"Yes, he has, Mom. You've just never noticed because gets straight A's."

"He has always had more drive than you, Anna. He got admitted into Milton-" the way she said made it sound like heaven on earth "-for his senior year."

I abandoned the banister and re-entered the living room so the arrows shooting from my eyes could more easily find their target.

"He doesn't even want to go."

She looked as if I had stabbed her. "Of course he does. Don't put down your brother because of jealousy."

"I am not jealous. You're just assuming we both want to go to Milton. You're putting words in our mouths. And grades don't mean a whole lot, Mother. After I graduate and get a job, no one is going to care that I got a C on my Macbeth essay in 11th grade."

Her eyes widened with dread. "I can proofread it before you turn it in. When is it due?"

I felt my temper and my voice rising. "Oh, god forbid I get a C!"

"Your brother has never gotten a C! Honey, I just want you to succeed."

"I do succeed! You just don't notice!"

And with that, I made a dramatic sweep out of the room and up the stairs, tripping on the top step but catching myself on the wall. Fuming, I threw my backpack furiously into the abyss that was my room and headed straight across the hall to Hans' domain. My brother always seemed to lighten me up when I was having bad days.

I found him throwing clothes haphazardly into a suitcase when I prodded open the door without knocking. I started immediately on the same track.

"I'm so over listening to Mom harp on about you being her favorite and me being the cockroach that lives under the oven that she cringes at when it makes an unwelcome appearance," I whined, hopping up onto his bed and bouncing a bit at the landing.

"I love you, sis, but I'm a bit busy. And you're not a cockroach."

"What about a dungbeetle?"

He paused in army-rolling a band tee to peck me on the top of the head "You are a human. Hopelessly klutzy, sometimes annoying, sometimes ill-tempered, but still an altogether okay human."

"Thanks," I said brightly. He cuffed me on the head where he had just kissed me and turned away to grab cologne bottles from the top of his dresser. "How come you're packing already? I thought you didn't start Milton until Monday."

Milton was the most hoity-toity private boarding school in town. They had uniforms and everything. The acceptance rate into college was higher than any other secondary school in our state. Hans had such good grades that they decided to let him start mid-semester. In the letter they said he was "exactly the kind of student Milton desired." Mom was thrilled but Hans disagreed. He had less motivation to do well in school than me, but still was super smart. It made me so mad. If I tried hard enough I could totally get into Milton. I just don't care enough. The real kicker though is that it's like this grandiose family tradition; Mom's parents met there and my uncle ended up there too (but Mom herself never went, the hypocrite). And now Hans has been hand-picked to be the next "Milton Star"!

"See, here's the thing," said Hans, dropping to the floor to rummage under the bed. "The South Aisle has a gig in London over the next two weeks and you better believe that I'd miss the first day of school for it. This could be a really big deal."

The South Aisle was the punk rock band formed by my brother and his other three friends Freshman year of High School, much to Mom's dismay (she wanted him to be a doctor or a lawyer). I was the South Aisle's biggest fan - in 8th grade I hand-made shirts for myself and my friends and screamed through their whole first gig at an empty bar. Let's just say I was banned from any more rehearsals or shows because they said I was "too rambunctious" but I still nursed a soft spot for anything to do with The South Aisle.

"Ughhhhh, that sounds really fun, take me with you!" I said, watching Hans pack his guitar in its case delicately.

"No, Anna. Your job is to stay here and keep mom off of my trail."

I groaned in frustration and collapsed face-down on the bed. "Don't leave me alone with her, please!" My voice was muffled by the comforter but I didn't care. "She'll totally notice that you're gone."

I felt a mountain of clothes fall on top of me. "Just tell her I'm staying at dad's or something."

I now felt the need to yell whilst being drowned in boy clothes. "But you hate staying at dad's and she knows it!"

"Keep it down! Just tell her dad's is closer to Hilton."

"Milton!" I yelled louder out of spite.

"Whatever. It's a good alibi. You know dad wouldn't talk to her anyway."

I found a hole in the pile of clothes above me and surfaced. "Yeah, yeah. But seriously. What about school? They're expecting you bright and early on Monday morning."

"Well actually, I was hoping you could help me with that one."

I pushed myself up on my elbows and gave him a pained expression.

"Don't look at me like that," he laughed, throwing another shirt in my face. "C'mon, you do a really good Mom impression. Call Milton and tell them I have appendicitis or something and won't be there for a few weeks."

"Isn't it against the law to like, impersonate people and also to lie about an illness you don't have? Do you really want your little sister to go to jail on your account?"

"Anna, you're seventeen. You'd go to juvie."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"Look, sis," Hans finally sighed, coming to squat next to where I sat on the bed. "I really, really need this. The South Aisle needs this. C'mon. Please?"

And then he gave me one of his signature, full-on pouts. It's one of those pouts that charms the pants off of teachers, girls, parents… enough for him to get away with almost anything. I'm the only one it didn't work on because I knew better. I stuck out my own lip stubbornly and crossed my arms.

"Please?" He added some Puss-In-Boots eyes to the equation. I didn't budge.

"Anna…" he crept closer. "Little sis…. please….?"

And suddenly he launched a tickle assault and with a shriek I fell right off the edge of the bed, landing flat on my back before I even had the chance to counterattack.

"Okay, okay!" I squealed between bursts of involuntary laughter.

"Do you promise you'll help me?" he said, still assaulting my sides with his fingertips.

"Yes! Yes!" I yelped, cringing away from those fingers and smacking my head on his desk chair. "You bully."

"Anna… you're bleeding all over my carpet." Hans stood. "And there's blood on my bed, too! What the hell?"

"Oh yeah," I said, sitting up from the floor. "I tripped after soccer and split open my knee. I guess I forgot about it."

Hans had already gone to the bathroom and come back bearing Band-Aids. "You're such a klutz."

I sat back on his bed, propping up my knee on the mountain of clothes. "You're supposed to be this genius but this is the best plan you came up with?"

"I'm not a genius. I'm a starving artist," he said proudly, peeling apart the Band-Aid.

"You know, if Mom finds out she's going to murder you. Or cry. Or both."

"She doesn't understand that I don't care about school. I just want to be a musician."

"So tell her! See, this is the difference between you and me, big bro. You stay quiet about what you want and I fight for it!"

He carefully placed the Band-Aid over my cut. "And that's why you get grounded every other week."

"Details, details."

"There ya go, crazy girl," he said, standing and tossing the wrapper in the trash. "So you will? You'll do it?"

"Yeah…" I said, sighing dramatically.

"Right on!" he said, excitedly leaning forward and grabbing my upper arms. He shook me with each word to emphasize his point. "You do understand that The South Aisles could be signed while we're there? This could be our big break! And it'll be all thanks to you, Feisty-Pants."

"Yeah, yeah," I said, waving him off of me. I really was excited for them, but there was still some unfinished business. "But one more thing… what about Ingrid?"

Hans' face fell instantly into guilt. "Yeah… about that…" I crossed my arms expectantly. "Well, we got into a fight and she's not talking to me… but I've been meaning to break up with her for a while now anyway. But I guess it'll just have to wait until I get back. I won't be able to use my phone so it should be okay."

"You're just gonna ignore her for two weeks, and dump her?" He didn't answer. "Well, Hans. You are officially a douchebag."

"Hey, watch it. When I'm famous I could withhold your comp tickets to my shows." I slugged him in the shoulder and he danced away, giggling like a fool.

He wasn't getting away that easy. "But really, what do you want me to do when Ingrid comes around?"

"Uh… avoid her?" he said, zipping up his bulging suitcase. "And hope that she doesn't come around."

"Excuse me?" I said in disbelief. "That is not a solution."

"You'll figure it out. I believe in you." And then suddenly, he was in a rush. "Now look, I gotta go. I'm already late. You're the best, sis. You won't regret it. See ya soon!"

And with a last peck on my head and the slam of his bedroom door, he was gone.

In the wake of his departure, I looked down on the mountain of clothes he had abandoned on his bed. It was a combination of polos and more band tees. The contrast fit the owner perfectly. What I saw (the band tees) versus what Mom saw (the polos). And hanging in pristine condition in his open closet was the Milton uniform. Freshly-pressed black slacks, a starched white button up, a navy blue jacket, and a blue and white striped tie. I threw a balled-up polo at it and it swung pitifully on its hanger. God, he would just whisk his guitar off to another country and leave me here to cover his ass. He's lucky I love him.

Dinner that night alone with Mom was an absolute treat, let me assure you. Between the endless complaining about me and the perpetuated praise of Hans, I had a blast. She kept talking about Milton and how excited she was for Hans to go. She lamented greatly on the fact she had a mandatory work meeting Monday morning and could not see to his moving in. I assured her that I would gladly skip school that day to help him myself. Unamused by my sass, she denied me a brownie in punishment.

After that half-hour of torture, I found myself back in my room, staring at my poster-laden ceiling. Directly above me was Mia Hamm in action. Right next to her was a print of a pretty badass painting of Joan of Arc wielding a sword and charging into battle. And right next to Joan was Julie d'Aubigny, this awesome cross-dressing, sword-fighting, opera-singing French woman that my history teacher once mentioned (see, I pay attention in class).

I was studying Madame d'Aubigny in her male attire when I thought of it. It was like the Immaculate Conception but instead of Mary's womb it was my brain and instead of Jesus it was my idea. My awesome, crazy, hilarious, insane idea.

In seconds I was up and tearing across my untidy room. I flung open the door and marched straight across the hall into Hans' room.

From downstairs I heard Mom call, "Must you tromp around like an elephant?"

I ignored her as I stopped in front of Hans' closet and pulled out my phone. I was almost exploding from how excited I was.

"Olaf?" I said when he finally picked up. I was staring at Hans' Milton uniform with new eyes. "I have a huge favor to ask of you."


	2. Day One

_A/N: I've gone back and updated the prologue so if you read the first draft of the prologue before today (Dec. 13th) you should re-read it, otherwise you'll be confused. Huge thanks to **Wandering Quill** and **hopefulreader** for giving me super helpful advice! You guys rock. _I am so excited to get into the meat of this story! It's gonna be really fun. __

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><p>Milton proved to be a very strange place. First of all, the entire campus was enclosed by this ornate fence that stretched on forever on every side and only had two gates allowing people in or out. I almost felt claustrophobic thinking about it. Secondly, the students didn't really look or act differently than public school kids as far as I could tell. The only difference was the uniforms. And lastly, the Headmaster was very weird.<p>

I was sitting in a surprisingly uncomfortable leather armchair in front of Headmaster Weselton's glossy desk. It was obvious that he wore a toupee and his beady eyes were staring at me through rounded Harry Potter glasses and down a long nose. His small stature tipped me off that he was probably sitting on more than one pillow so as to tower over his visitors in an intimidating fashion.

The first thing he had done when I walked in was accuse me of tracking in mud on my shoes even though it hadn't rained for a month.

And _then _he butchered the pronunciation of my name. Well, my brother's name. It doesn't rhyme with pans. Just sayin'.

Oh yeah… you're probably wondering why I'm in the office of Milton's Headmaster and why he's calling me Hans. I skipped a bit of important stuff.

So I spent the entire weekend avoiding Mom (which was harder than you'd think) and putting my plan into motion.

What was my brilliant Immaculate Conception Idea (ICI), you ask? So you know how Hans asked me to call Milton and tell them that he had appendicitis and wouldn't be back for two weeks? Well, I called _my _school and told them that _I _had appendicitis and would be out sick for several days. Then, I told Mom that I would be staying at my friend Rapunzel's for the first week (because of a school project I made up - genius, right?) and then at Dad's for the second week. I was not the only one who could impersonate their mom - Punz was awesome at it too and assured me she would make up a good alibi for me if Mom called to check up. Plus Mom refuses to talk to Dad ever so she'd never call over there and that just takes care of itself.

I became a boy over the weekend. No big deal.

My friend Olaf helped a _lot _with my transformation. I'm not sure if I should be scared by his enthusiastic reaction to the ICI or what but he was at my front door within minutes of me calling to ask him for help.

We spent all of Friday night raiding Hans' room for clothes that were small enough to fit me. We found a few musky gems in the very back of his closet, shirts that he probably hadn't worn since 6th grade. They fit me pretty well after the binding. Which hurt a lot, by the way, but you gotta do what you gotta do. My ladies will just have to deal with it.

Then on Saturday, Olaf, Rapunzel, and I went wig shopping and it was probably a lot more fun than it should have been. I now have a whole album on my phone with twenty or so different hairstyles on mine and my friends' craniums. But yes we did finally find the perfect Hans wig. Olaf even came over giggling and holding two fake sideburns that would match my brother's, but I refused because they literally looked like pubes. Those were not going on my face.

"But you still look so girly," Olaf argued, holding the atrocious facial hair pieces up to my jawline. "Your features are too soft!"

I pushed him away, shuddering. "I'm _not _wearing those, Olaf!"

Rapunzel was staring at me, sucking on an end of long, blonde hair in deep concentration.

"I think it's the freckles. And the bone structure," she concluded.

"Foundation does wonders," I told her, still dodging a giggling Olaf and his gross sideburns.

"But there's nothing I can do about my bones."

"Plastic surgery?" suggested Olaf, finally tossing the sideburns on a table. I bopped him on the top of the head and went to check out. I had to convince the cashier that it was a wig for a very, very, very early Halloween party (Punz and Olaf wouldn't let that one go for the rest of the day).

Sunday turned into an absolutely abysmal game of avoiding Mom and sidestepping questions about Hans. I did, however, find an old Milton guidebook as I was hiding from her in the attic and it had a map of the campus and everything. Even though it was pretty aged, I figured it was still probably mostly accurate. Then Olaf came over again to go over some last-minute ICI things (Punz had an art project to finish and couldn't be there for the big send-off).

When I had finally crawled in bed that night and was beaming proudly up at my collection of badass lady posters, I thought the starting line for the ICI was clear. Oh, how wrong I was...

The first complication arose this morning when I was leaving the house for Milton. I had my wig secured and my uniform in prime condition. Thankfully Mom had already gone to work so I had full run of the house and I had used my freedom to have a pump-me-up dance party (naturally).

Anyway, as I was closing the door I heard someone open the gate behind me and I froze on the doormat when the voice washed over me.

"Hans! We need to talk!"

I knew immediately that it was Ingrid. Just my luck!

I panicked, covering my face with my suitcase and adopting a deep grunt-y voice. "I can't talk right now, Ingrid. I have to go to school." I cringed; Olaf and I had worked on the boy voice for hours yesterday and I was already screwing it up.

"Your voice sounds different. Are you sick?"

"Yes. No. Maybe!" I heard her come closer and I stepped around her, hands still holding the suitcase before my face like a shield.

"Why do you always avoid me?" she pouted and I felt her tug on my sleeve. I jumped, not realizing she was so close.

I made a rambling beeline for the gate and I could hear Ingrid right behind me. She wasn't going to leave me alone. What was I supposed to do? I did the only thing I could think of.

Stopping right at the gate, I held a hand out behind me and in a slightly more decent boy voice grunted, "This needs to end, Ingrid. You're crazy and I need a new start." That's something Hans would say, right?

"Hans, you are not breaking up with me! I wouldn't let you the three times before and I won't let you now!"

I'm not sure what I was expecting but this was not it. He'd tried breaking up with her before? She's more off the handle than I had anticipated.

"No, Ingrid! This is it, this is the end, I'm letting you go!" I felt like I was in a soap opera.

"You can't let me go if I hold onto you!"

And she did just that, grabbing my forearms and pinning me to the fence with her body. I felt her breasts pushing into my back and blushed involuntarily.

_Hope she doesn't come around,_ he said. My brother is the least helpful person on the planet.

After a moment of struggle I managed to unsecure the gate and we both toppled through it and onto the ground. I took TaeKwonDo when I was younger so I had enough sense to roll away from her and spring back up to my feet before she even knew what had happened. I was halfway to the the bus stop a block away when I heard her giving chase and angrily calling my brother's name. This chick just won't let up! This explained why she had stopped coming around so often and Hans was embarrassed to mention her.

I made it just in time; the bus door closed behind me and I collapsed on the steps next to the driver as he pulled away from the curb. Ingrid was running alongside the accelerating bus, shouting obscenities, and was soon left behind.

"You can't sit there," said the driver, looking down a long nose at me. I looked back up at him, panting and sweaty. "Yeah, sorry…."

I stood and began to move away but he continued, "Was that an ex-girlfriend of yours, son?"

"What?" I said in my normal voice, then I remembered who I was trying to impersonate and cleared my throat ostentatiously. "Oh, yeah. Crazy ex. Broke up with her weeks ago and she can't let it go. Women."

The bus driver laughed. "Ain't it the truth!"

I went off to find a seat, inwardly cringing at this stereotypically sexist straight-boy mentality I had suddenly adopted.

I collapsed, relieved, on a back seat. Well. That was that. Now Ingrid would be out of the way and honestly Hans should just thank me for taking care of his problems for him. He's _so_ lucky I love him.

Catching the stop for Milton wasn't a challenge in the least. We drove past the gates every time we were being shuttled to Dad's. Mom would smile proudly as we passed and tell us one of the five stories she knows about Grandpa's or our Uncle's time there, which as I'm sure you guessed got old really fast.

So I arrived at Milton pretending to be my brother and I found my way to the Headmaster's office to get my room assignment and the opening "Milton is the Best And You're Lucky to Be Here" speech. I wasn't disappointed.

"Milton's reputation for educational excellence is not without merit," Weselton began in a considerably pompous manner. He continued but I ended up zoning out for most of it and made sure to nod at appropriate times. I was too busy being excited to get started on the schoolwork and showing Mom how easy it would come for me and how I was just as smart and worthy of praise as Hans. I can totally do this.

Ten gruelling minutes later and Weselton was finally wrapping it up. He was man of many flourishes of the hand and false endings. There were more than a few times during his droning speech where I thought he was about to come to a conclusion and I sat in my chair in anticipation - only to have him continue on another track and let me slip back into another stupor.

"...as I'm sure you'll be another example of the perfect Milton student."

At this, he peered at me through those spectacles expectantly, as though wanting me to respond.

I opened my mouth hurriedly but the Headmaster immediately cut in. "Here is your room key. Do you need me to escort you there? I was a top-notch tour guide in my college days! Swept the floor during orientation! Not literally, of course." He chuckled wheezily and nudged me with his elbow. I clutched my suitcase tighter to my chest, suddenly scared for the second time that day that I might be caught before I'd even started.

"Uh… no thanks," I said, feeling stifled in his presence. "I can find it myself."

"Then off you go, lad. I'm sure you'll find Milton the epitome of higher learning."

"Yeah," I grunted, "Thanks!" And I scurried away in the most manly fashion I could muster.

I couldn't help but smile as I exited the Headmaster's building. I stopped at the top of the steps and inhaled, taking in the blue sky and green-

The door to the building behind me suddenly opened again and since I hadn't taken any steps away from it because of my distraction, it smacked me in the middle of my back. I lost my balance and flew forward toward the now-intimidating staircase below me. Panicked, I threw my suitcase at the point of impact. Luckily, I landed heavily on it. Unluckily, it then began sliding mercilessly down the steps. I was taken with it, my screams broken by each thump of the suitcase hitting a step. Gravity made me and my suitcase slide increasingly faster the farther down we went and soon I had hit the bottom, flown across the walkway below, and closed my eyes just before slamming straight into a tree.

For a minute or so I couldn't comprehend what exactly had happened. I could hear footsteps and a voice but I didn't really register my surroundings until I realized there was a pair of lacy pink panties hanging from a branch right above me.

"Oh my God!" I squealed, sitting up with a lurch. It hurt - I must have hit my head on something - I was a bit dizzy. But not dizzy enough to ignore the fact that my suitcase had burst open and strewn my (very girly) belongings all over the place.

The worst part of it was that there was a guy standing over me - a student, I assumed because he wore the Milton uniform. He was tall and blonde and was _laughing._

I could have just died and he was _laughing at me._

I tried not to let it matter though, as I stood unsteadily and shook myself.

"Are you okay?" asked the guy through his chuckles. I brushed weeds from my pants - they were already grass-stained, great. I ignored him and scrambled around chucking my stuff back in the suitcase.

"Dude, that was seriously the best movie-moment-in-real-life I've ever seen. I wish I could have got it on video. It would have gotten like a million views on YouTube."

I summoned all the manliness I possessed and glared him in the eye. I expected him to shrink back or at least stop laughing but if anything this seemed to amuse him more.

"Maybe you should watch where you're going," I said in my boy grunt.

"How could I have know someone would be standing at the top step? No one ever does that. Are you new or something?"

"What's it to you?"

He only laughed again. I finished gathering my things and sat on the suitcase (it was now dented from the fall) to zip it.

"Hey, you forgot one."

I looked up and sure enough, there were those pink panties being held out to me by a smirking blondie.

"That's my sister's," was the first explanation I could think of, grabbing them from him and blushing. Dammit. "No idea how they got in here."

"Sure," he said, winking. "Ladies man, I can tell."

"They're my sister's!" I said, stuffing the panties as deep into my suitcase as possible. He studied me for another moment.

"You seem like you need help. Do you need help?"

"No, I'm fine by myself, thanks," I said petulantly, picking up my suitcase without zipping it and stalking away.

"Come on, newbie. First day?"

"Nope." I was still dizzy and the suitcase felt heavier when I carried it unzipped, trying to balance it so that nothing else fell out.

"Yes it is, I can tell. Dude, I'm just being friendly. Some people on this campus are not like me at all."

"Dude," I said, mockingly. "I've got this."

"Whoa okay, okay," he said, stopping in his pursuit of me. "Just thought I'd offer some help after almost killing you."

At least he admits it.

"Naw, man, I'm good," I said as another pair of lacy panties dropped out of my suitcase like the traitor they were.

"I suppose that's your sister's too?" said the guy, bending over and plucking it off the ground. He smirking as he tossed it on top of my head, then turned to walk away, leaving me fuming.

"I'll see you around, Ladies' Man!"

In my anger, I threw my suitcase back on the ground, letting all the incriminating objects spill out and sweeping the panties off of my head with a snarl. A passing couple glanced over at my tantrum curiously.

It took me a solid half-hour to recollect my stuff and my temper. It took me another half-hour to find my room. The hall it was in happened to be of course at the opposite end of the campus from the Headmaster's building. Thank God I didn't have to wear makeup to crossdress because I was sweating so much by the time I stopped outside of my room that it would have all melted off.

I leaned, panting, against the door and fumbled with the key. The person inside must have heard because the door was pulled open before I could even hope of turning the key in the lock.

The person inside was the last person I wanted to see.

"Hey, Ladies' Man. Took you long enough."


	3. Day Two

Kristoff was his name. The guy who almost killed me. My roommate. Or, actually, Hans' roommate. But under these circumstances, my roommate.

All in all he was a nice guy, but I could tell right away that living with him was going to make this scheme a whole lot harder than I had first anticipated.

I say this because the first thing I did after recovering from the shock of discovering him as my roommate was toss my still-unzipped suitcase on the bed. The bounce forced my box of tampons to burst open and litter the floor between our two twin mattresses with narrow projectile-like objects. It also made Kristoff peer at them, then at me curiously and say, "Why do you have those?"

"I-uh-they-" My mind flew to every possible answer. Tampon, vagina, period, blood. Blood! "I use them to stop bleeding - my nose! My nose from bleeding."

Without a second thought, I bent over and swiped one up from off the floor. With shaking fingers I ripped the wrapper apart, tore off the applicator and stuffed the feminine product unceremoniously up my nose. I spread my arms wide as though I was a magician showing off a trick and even very nearly said, "tada!"

Kristoff was staring at me, brows furrowed and mouth agape. Half-astonished, half-disgusted. His eyes followed the swing of the string hanging over my mouth.

"They're really absorbent," I assured him when he said nothing.

"I will…. take your word for it," he finally said and turned away to re-pack his backpack. He was out the door and off to class within minutes, leaving me alone in the room to unpack my mess of a suitcase.

Thankfully I didn't have to start any classes until the next day, so I collapsed face-down on my bed with a sigh. This was going to be the longest two weeks of my life. I had to just keep reminding myself what it was all for: to show Mom that I could survive in a prestigious school and that I _am_ a hard worker. I just had to, you know, not be caught on the first day.

Kristoff did not come back until almost midnight, by which time I had thrown sheets on my bed and had my desk organized (in an Anna way which is, not very much). I was changed into my (well, Hans') PJ's and was pretending to be asleep when he barged in loudly, chucking what I assumed was his backpack in a corner with a loud thunk and was no sooner spread-eagled on his bed, out like a light with all of his clothes still on. It took me a bit to fall asleep in the wake of his entrance, not to mention his thunderous snores but before I knew it, it was morning.

The second morning went infinitely better than the first. The only hitch I encountered was getting dressed. Kristoff obviously didn't mind in the least - he stripped right in front of me and was in his uniform in minutes without making a big deal out of it. I was surprised by his half-naked form; I knew he was tall but he was really muscular too. He had the build of a football player. Did Milton even have a football team?

I, of course, could not undress in such an arbitrary fashion. To protect my feminine virtue (but mostly just my secret) I feigned modesty and fled to the bathroom down the hall. This also contained half-naked boys but I, completely red in the face, flew right past them and into the safety and privacy of a stall.

When I had finally been dressed and successfully not caught, I scuttled back to the room wherein Kristoff took it upon himself to be a good roommate.

"Hey, what's your first class?" he asked when I walked in, glancing up from the phone on which he had been taking selfies.

"Uhm," I said, snatching up my own phone from the depths of my unmade bed. I opened the note into which I had typed Hans' class schedule. It was Tuesday, so it would be….

"Chemistry," I answered, continuing to peruse the classes. I hadn't really looked closely at the schedule in my haste to transform myself into a guy and whatnot.

"Really?" he said, springing off of his bed like an Olympic Athlete and coming to look over my shoulder, which of course was really easy because he towered over all five feet of me. "You have it with me! Same time and place."

"Oh, great," I said. I was happy I didn't have to find the classroom by myself on the giant campus, but I also didn't want to spend too much time with Kristoff in case he got suspicious.

"Phys Ed, too. This should be fun, Newbie." He cuffed my shoulder playfully and sent me careening into my desk. "Ah, sorry."

Kristoff and I had chemistry in a building only across the courtyard from our dorm, which was a huge relief for me. Most of the desks were already taken when we arrived. Although there were two seats right next to each other in the back, Kristoff steered me over to the second row where a girl with blonde hair was sitting in between two empty spots. He commandeered one and left me to take the other so that we had the girl surrounded. She was reading a very thick book and took no notice of us.

"Hey, Elsa!" Kristoff said in greeting. "Still reading that long, boring French book, I see."

I noticed immediately that his voice and whole demeanor had changed as he talked to the girl. Elsa, was it? He seemed more demanding of attention and a lot more fake (which was a feat in itself because even though I had only know him for a day I thought him pretty genuine).

"_Les Misérables,_" Elsa corrected, not looking up. Her French pronunciation was perfect.

"Gesundheit!" said Kristoff, chuckling awkwardly at his own joke. Elsa ignored him and continued to read.

Kristoff cleared his throat and scooted his chair a bit closer to the blonde, glancing across her and at me.

"Elsa, this is my new roommate, Hans."

I put on my best Hans smirk and reached out for a handshake like any decent human being. For the first time since we had arrived, Elsa looked up from the grim pages of her Hugo novel and over at me. Her vivid blue eyes travelled from my outstretched palm and came to rest on my face. There, I swear I saw them narrow almost imperceptibly before flitting away again. She did not take my offer of a handshake.

"Hello," was all she said before diving straight back into that book of hers. Before I could even open my mouth to respond to the cold introduction, the teacher entered the room and class began.

The first thing the teacher (I didn't catch the name) did was hand back quizzes that the class had apparently taken the Thursday before. I, of course, wasn't getting anything back because it was my first day, but I did not fail to notice the great, red A on Elsa's quiz as the teacher slid it onto the table before the blonde, as well as the D on Kristoff's.

When the lecture started it was abundantly clear that I was out of my _element_. Get it? Element. Chemistry. I had never been very good at science and knew nothing about chem because it was a senior-level class and I was technically a Junior although I was pretending to be a Senior (and a dude… but you get it).

I took copious notes about terms and reactions I did not understand and by the end of the lesson resolved to become fast friends with this Elsa girl, the one who read 1,500 page French novels and got A's on pop quizzes. But as soon as we were all released, Elsa stood immediately and stalked out, ignoring Kristoff's and my own attempts at conversation. Becoming friends with Elsa was going to be yet another struggle tacked onto this long train of strife that I had boarded.

The rest of the class took their time in packing up for passing period, but I found Kristoff still looking after the blonde with a somewhat dazed expression on his face.

"She talked to me…." he said, his pathetic infatuation extremely apparent.

"Yeah, and it wasn't even in English," I scoffed. She was a real charmer all right. "Okay, lover boy…" I said, tugging at his uniform sleeve when he didn't make any move to leave his seat.

"Hey," he said suddenly, twisting to face me. "You're the Ladies' Man! You should help me out!"

"You want me to give you advice on how to get into the Ice Queen's pants?"

"She's just shy," he said defensively. "But… well, yes. She's hot, you have to agree."

"I'm glad you like her for her personality," I sniffed in a distinctly feminine tone. I hastily corrected myself, going into a lower register. "I mean, I didn't think you were so shallow, man."

Kristoff did not seem to notice my slip-up, distracted as he was by the blonde's exit. "Dude, c'mon. Please? I'll do anything! Anything!"

Anything, huh? I thought about it for a second. What could I get out of this? Well, if Kristoff was dating Elsa, that would make her one step closer to me. It could certainly make it easier to be my friend so that she could help me with work. I would need help especially with chem but she might be good at English too considering the kinds of novels she reads in her free time…

"Okay, loser. I'll help you."

Kristoff let out a whoop and drew me into a bone-crushing hug. Yeah. He should be a football player.

"You're _the man, _dude. Hey, it's time for our next class!" He sauntered out of the room with the biggest, silliest grin on his face.

I stood shaking my head in disbelief for a moment before I realized that I was going to be late for the next class and sprinted out after him.

Being tardy turned out to be a good thing for phys ed because it meant the men's locker room was clear of, well, men. It meant that I could change in (relative) privacy, save for Kristoff, but he already knew that "Hans" was shy so it worked out. Utilizing the vacant showers, I changed into the ugly navy shorts and T-shirt and soon found myself out on the field with a bunch of other guys who, like Kristoff, towered over me like giants. I should have realized that being five foot tall was an anomaly for guys but it was way too late now.

The team sport of the day was soccer which was another piece of good luck for me. I was gonna kick ass and take names. I was feeling very confident to start, realizing that I missed playing very much, even though it had only been four days since my last practice. I was excited, that is, until the Coach announced we'd be playing Shirts and Skins. He had us stand in line and counted us off, and like some kind of nightmare or dark comedy, I was picked to be a Skin. This wasn't gonna do.

"You don't understand, sir," I said, running up to the Coach after the decision had been made. "I- my, uh, religion doesn't let me, uh… show skin. Like that."

He eyed me incredulously. "The universe wanted you to get Skins. So that's what you are."

"No, but- really-" I tried again but was interrupted by a voice from behind me.

"Hey, Coach Kai. Give him some slack." It was Kristoff. "He's new and kinda shy." He elbowed me playfully once he was level with the Coach and I. He was really growing on me, this kid. "I got Shirts, I'll trade teams with him."

Coach Kai's narrowed eyes moved from Kristoff to me a few times in what was an eerily familiar way before finally giving in. "All right, all right, just get out there."

Playing soccer with boys was a lot different than playing with the girls back on my team. Boys were a lot more rough and got sore at losing a lot easier. The amount of times I stole the ball and scored a goal right then and there was hilariously high. I heard every Skin grumbling after the third time this happened and by the fourth they were absolutely furious. It wasn't my fault I was smaller and faster than them!

All in all, I was positively buoyant with happiness and confidence when the class was over. I had absolutely dominated the field and felt all of my made-up "Hans Swagger" come back full force.

Kristoff was giving me a high-five when Coach Kai approached us, clipboard in hand.

"Hans, will you walk with me for a minute before changing?"

"Yeah, sure!" I was relieved that I didn't have to come up with an excuse to loiter in the locker rooms and wait for it to clear so that I could finally change. I waved Kristoff off when I saw he had been lingering and went to follow Coach Kai.

He got straight to the point. "I'm not sure if you know, but Milton has only one school-organized sports team. It's soccer, as you probably guessed. I wondered... if you would maybe want to join it."

This wasn't really what I expected. Then again, I did score four goals without breaking a sweat. "Do I have to… try out for it?"

"Thankfully, we're so low in the league that we'll pretty much take anyone. Especially someone who plays like you do. Think of today's class like a pseudo try-out."

Another reason I hadn't been interested in attending Milton earlier was that it placed a great amount of emphasis on academics and almost none on sports. This could be a bad or a good thing. For me, it was a bad thing. For Mom, it was the opposite. She would love it if I gave up soccer.

"I mean, if you really wanted me on the team and thought I'd be worth it, I can certainly give it a try!"

"You should. First practice is tomorrow. I truly think you should come."

"I will, then! Thanks, Coach!"

"You're welcome." His tone lowered conspiratorily. "I don't make this offer to just anyone…. especially not a girl."

I stopped dead, jaw dropping in alarm. He slowed, turned, and chuckled good-naturedly at my reaction. "You may have fooled Headmaster Weselton and most of the student body, but I know a girl when I see one."

"I- uh- I'm, well you see-" Today was not a good lying day for me by any means.

"Don't worry. You're secret's safe with me. I was actually thinking all class that this could turn out to be a very interesting social experiment."

I stared at him, silent.

"Don't look at me like that, I double majored in Psychology and Sociology in college. Don't ask me how I snagged this job. Now look here, I've been trying to convince administration for years to grant me a co-ed soccer team since they refuse to let me have a female one. This could be exactly what I need to prove to them that it could work. Those misogynistic bastards," he finished under his breath.

"Uh. Yeah," I said when I had finally found my voice again after the initial shock. "Yeah, I like sticking it to the man. Obviously." I gestured to my male uniform and Coach Kai chuckled again.

"Count me in!" I said, holding out my hand and grinning. This was beginning to get very interesting.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Kristoff and Anna is literally my fav brotp. You'll be seeing a lot more of them being awesome together. Don't you worry your little faces about Elsa being sort of MIA: remember that I have ten more days of development to get through. Thanks for reading, my little minions._


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